Cha cha cha

I came home on Wednesday eager to see the new mama. I was holding on to hope that she might be half as glamorous and exciting as Nancy with her permed hair, menagerie of friends and stories of trips to Paris long ago.

I was sorely disappointed to turn into my street and see the same boring mama who filled in for Nancy when she was on holiday in Thailand. She was squatting on her stool with legs wide apart. One hand was resting on top of her large stomach and the other was picking at her teeth. She was still picking at her teeth an hour later when I came out of the house to go swimming.

On her last night of working, Nancy told me that she is also going to use her new spare time to go to cha cha cha class. I figured out what this meant when she did a demonstration on the pavement 'One, two, cha cha cha, three, four, cha cha cha'. She was very good and went on to do a tango, a waltz and then a salsa. She's promised to call me so I can go with her to cha cha cha lessons.